Belly of the Beast
by Thomas H. Bombadil
Summary: Tonks doesn't know what she's getting herself into, and Remus feels guilty for giving in to her advances. Tonks and Lupin's relationship during OOTP. Definitely dark, not very fluffy. Well... maybe a *little* fluffy, but only because Remus as a werewolf is literally fluffy.
1. Dueling

" _The point I'm trying to make is_ , Remus, that you've got a tell," said Tonks, though she sounded more amused than exasperated. "Anyone who spent more than a minute watching you duel would know exactly when you were about to strike. Moody would've trained it right out of you!"

Remus looked down into the face of the young witch, her skin pale and luminous, her dark eyes twinkling with mischief, the corners of her lips turned up into a grin. She leaned forward onto the kitchen table that lay between them. The walls of Grimmauld Place's kitchen encased them in gloom, with only the dying flames of the fireplace to illuminate them.

 _She's beautiful in the firelight_. The thought entered Remus' mind quite uninvited. He blinked it away and crossed his arms. "Moody did train me, Tonks," said Remus defensively. "And I'm pleased to say, I managed to disarm him myself several times."

"Well, then you're getting a little rusty, I'd say," said Tonks, rolling her eyes.

"Alright, then," said Remus, playing along. "What's my tell?"

"Do you want me to show you, or do you want to figure it out yourself?" said Tonks playfully.

Remus, not to be outdone by the junior Order member, stepped back and indicated for Tonks to do the same. With a sweep of his wand, the table jumped to the corner of the room, leaving the long corridor of the kitchen open. Remus waved his wand again, and the ornate, heavy sconces were set aflame, casting them both in a warm glow. Tonks took a stance on one end of the room, and Remus stood opposite from her. Together, they lifted their wands, each watching the other carefully.

" _Expelliarmus_!" cried Tonks before the incantation even left his lips. Remus grasped for his wand even as it flew from his fingers to Tonks'. Remus would not allow his embarrassment to show. Across from him, Tonks was smirking.

"Again?"

"Of course," said Remus, casually.

Tonks tossed his wand back to him, and they each took their dueling stance once more.

" _Rictumsempra_!" cried Remus quickly.

The spell took Tonks by surprise this time, and she doubled over in uncontrollable giggles, interspersed by the most adorable little snorts. Tonks was quick to break the jinx and cast her wand wildly around her head. Pots and pans lifted themselves from their hooks on the walls and soared towards Remus, who was quick to deflect them back towards Tonks with a spell of his own. An absolute racket engulfed the kitchen as the heavy cast iron crashed against the wall. Remus made to disarm Tonks, but again, she was quicker, disarming him first and knocking him to the floor.

"Right then," said Tonks, breathless, twirling his wand between her fingers. "Did you figure it out yet?"

Remus had to admit that he had not.

Tonks threw her arms up as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "You do this thing with your left eyebrow! Every time — well, _almost_ every time — right before you strike."

"Really?" asked Remus.

"Here, I'll show you." Tonks screwed up her eyes and her face began to shift oddly around. Her jawline widened and her nose lengthened. Stubble emerged on her chin. It seemed as if he were looking into the strangest mirror; his own face atop Tonks' body stared back at him.

Tonks cocked her — _his_? — eyebrow and threw a mock spell over her shoulder. "You see?"

"Hm," said Remus, feeling quite unsettled by Tonks' appearance for reasons he had too much decency to fully explore. He'd never exactly felt the need to know how he'd look with a pair of… erm, well….

 _Rather nice ones at that_ , said the uninvited voice again.

Fortunately, Tonks was already morphing back into her female face. Remus struggled to regain his composure and act as though he hadn't been considering Tonks' body too deeply.

"Ah. Well, I suppose it can't hurt to work on my poker face. Though I don't think I'll be quite so predictable to a Death Eater. It's not as if they're likely to be watching me all the time, like you."

The words, all too revealing, had slipped from his mouth before he could stop them, and Tonks blushed deeply. "Well," she said, sounding oddly vulnerable all of a sudden, "I just find there's a lot I can learn from you." She took one step towards him, lifting up her dark eyes to meet his own. Looking a little uncertain, she parted her lips, but before she could speak —

"Tearing apart this old dump, and you didn't invite me?" said Sirius, slouched in the doorway. His eyes wandered between the two of them, mildly amused.

"Dueling practice," said Remus matter-of-factly.

"Yes," said Tonks quickly. "Sorry about the mess, Sirius."

"Oh, I don't mind at all," said Sirius dryly. "Just try to break a few Black family heirlooms while you're at it."

"I do need to get going, though, Kingsley will be expecting me. Bye, Sirius… Remus…" She nodded at them both, giving to Remus what seemed to a rather lingering, longing look, before hurrying out the door.

Sirius watched her go. After a moment, he then turned to face Remus fully, giving him a pointed, sly look.

"You ever notice how that one always finds a reason to be alone with you?" said Sirius, smiling slightly. He strode into the room, hands slung casually in his pockets.

"I know what you're suggesting, Sirius, and it's not that," said Remus quickly. He waved his wand, resetting the table and levitating the pots and pans back to their hooks. "We're colleagues."

"Really? All those longing glances and stolen looks?" Sirius snorted. "It's exactly that."

"It's nothing more than a schoolgirl crush," Remus said to his friend seriously. "A misguided one."

"Schoolgirl?" said Sirius, drawing up a chair. He leaned back, putting his legs unceremoniously up on the table. Remus knew that this was one of the few solaces Sirius could find in his confinement in Grimmauld Place; breaking the decorum of his childhood home in every small way he could. "You've noticed Tonks is a full-grown woman, right?"

"She might as well be, Sirius. I'm thirteen years her senior. It's a foolish crush. It'll pass soon enough. She's young. She'll meet someone young and handsome in the Aurors office and take up with him."

"Well if you feel so strongly that way, stop leading her on," said Sirius bluntly.

Remus wanted to deny it, but he couldn't if he was being honest with himself. He'd returned some of her glances, stolen looks of his own, and engaged in her verbal sparring that could only mean flirtation.

Heavily, he slumped into a chair. With a flick of his wand, he set the kettle boiling and summoned a pair of mugs for them both. In silence, he poured the tea. Remus watched as Sirius drew a flask from his pocket and unabashedly topped off his own mug with a strong-smelling alcohol. Remus had the good grace not to judge him for this, even though it couldn't have been past three O'clock — and he knew that Sirius would not judge him in return. Well, not judge him too much.

"Tonks is very…" he began slowly.

"Pretty," finished Sirius from behind his mug.

"Well…" said Remus furtively. "Yes. She's… intelligent and beautiful and quite clever. And, yes, I have noticed that she's taken a liking to me. But that's no basis for a relationship."

"That's the basis for every relationship," said Sirius flatly.

"She's young!" said Remus firmly. "She doesn't know what it would mean. Or perhaps she thinks she knows, but she doesn't really understand. Not really. It would be irresponsible of me to put her in that position, and you know it."

"You're acting like she's not even a person," said Sirius, sounding a little angry. "Like she hasn't even got a say in the matter."

"No, I'm acting like she's too young to make the most informed choices about her life. It's not like you made the best decisions in your early twenties," shot back Remus. Sirius' eyes darkened, and Remus regretted his words right away. "I'm sorry," he said quickly.

"It's okay," said Sirius blankly, staring into his mug.

A long, heavy silence hung between them as they sipped their tea.

"Full moon Thursday," said Sirius suddenly. "I know Dumbledore's got you running errands — " Sirius couldn't mask his jealousy as he said this " — but you better be back here in time. I'll sit through it with you."

"Thank you, Sirius," said Remus, feeling gratitude wash over him. Although Sirius could be difficult and taciturn in his confinement in Grimmauld Place, Remus was glad to have his old friend back, and his transformations had become once again much easier in Padfoot's presence. Sirius had even remarked that the werewolf had grown more mellow, even tame. "You're on your way to being a proper house pet, Remus," said Sirius one day, smirking, to which Remus had responded, "Yes, perhaps Hagrid would agree," and Sirius had laughed loudly.

Sirius drained his mug and staggered to his feet. "Thanks for the tea. Got things to do upstairs." He reached the kitchen door, paused, then turned back to Remus. Sirius stated, "You know, we were a whole lot younger than Tonks is now when we decided you were worth becoming Animagi over."

Before Remus could reply, Sirius was gone, leaving him alone with his thoughts in the gloomy kitchen.


	2. Lovemaking

Remus Lupin had read a great deal about hippogriffs. He could tell you all about how to approach them, their behavior, migration patterns, and mating habits. But when it came to delivering devastating news about the death its master, he was stumped.

He bowed before entering the room. Buckbeak offered a lackadaisical nod — he was quite used to Remus by now — and returned to preening his feathers. He seemed not to be in pain; that was good, at least. Remus slowly approached, surveying the bloody bandage on the beast's claw where Kreacher had cut him only a few days prior.

He gently stroked the beast's soft, feathered neck with the back of his hand. "Hello there, Beaky," he said in a low voice. The great hippogriff cooed appreciatively, and Remus smiled without joy.

He would find Sirius here often — and increasingly — as his months of confinement in Grimmauld place wore on. At first, Sirius would sulk, dreamily stroking Buckbeak's neck, muttering to him, perhaps, Remus imagined, about their year on the run together and many adventures.

In his final months, Remus was more apt to find Padfoot, front paws on the windowsill, snout pressed against the glass, intently watching oblivious London pedestrians below. And sometimes barking at them.

Perhaps he'd have been embarrassed if it were Molly, but he never mentioned or minded Remus seeing him behaving like a common city dog. Sirius displayed no shame to Remus, or vice versa; it had been years since there had been a need.

"I wish I could cross these walls and walk the streets like the rest of them," Sirius admitted to him one day. He'd looked more despondent than ever. Remus knew he was boiling inside, and the thing about Sirius was that he was apt to boil over if you let him stew too long.

Remus had looked carefully into the hallway before shutting the door and speaking to Sirius in a low voice. "There's a park a few blocks away, and the Order always keeps a batch of Polyjuice on standby."

Sirius looked up at him, an eyebrow raised.

"You're not serious."

"No, you are. Or rather, you'll be Padfoot."

"But Dumbledore said —"

"Dumbledore said your disguise in the presence of known Order members would be unwise. But there are plenty of black dogs in London who go on walks with their owners. Besides, since when did Padfoot care about the rules Dumbledore enforced?"

Sirius' eyes had brightened slowly. "But Malfoy — "

"I figure," Remus had continued, "that if, on the off-chance, a Death Eater would recognize you on the square below, we can mitigate that risk by apparating from the front step directly to the park. I know the perfect spot, it will be discrete. I'll take the potion beforehand. We'll be undetectable. I suppose we can fit in a good two hours outdoors if we leave now."

"You're mad, Moony," said Sirius rising to his feet. "Let's go!"

They'd tied a ribbon to Sirius' neck and transfigured a few white spots onto his side for good measure. Padfoot had run free that day, leaping and chasing squirrels and jumping in the pond while Remus looked on, disguised as a middle-aged Muggle man with black hair.

It was an odd thing, loss. How could his feet feel so leaden, yet his head so light? Were the shadows of Grimmauld place enchanted to trick his eyes into seeing Sirius just come around the corner, never to truly appear?

There ought to be another word for "ghost" reflected Remus, one not quite so literal.

"It's just me, today, I'm afraid," said Remus.

He wondered if Buckbeak would notice Sirius' absence. They had been constant companions for two years. Was Sirius anything to Buckbeak other than the man that fed him? Would his allegiance change to the next wizard who provided him with a bucket of squirrel carcasses? Was such a beast capable of friendship and love?

"Padfoot won't be coming back. Sirius is dead." Did he imagine it, or did the Hippogriff bow his head in sorrow as he said it? He liked to think so. Quietly, gently, he dressed Buckbeak's wound in Essence of Dittany and wrapped it in fresh bandages. The hippogriff tensed slightly as he worked, but did not lash out or withdraw.

When he finished, Remus stepped slowly back into the hallway, and a slight, pink-haired person collided into him in the narrow corridor. He caught her by the elbows before she collapsed.

"Oh — wotcher, Remus! — sorry!" she said breathlessly.

"Nym — Tonks. I thought you were still in St. Mungo's, I was just on my way back to see you."

Tonks looked up into his face, her eyes veiled in the shadows. He noticed he was still holding her. Had she not recently been injured in battle, he would have taken his hands off her in an instant. But the last time he'd seen her, not a day prior, she'd been lying in a hospital ward, unconscious, pale, with her worried parents standing over her, hands clasped together.

"Well, they let me out. Not as if a lacerated spleen is that big a deal. I mean, we are wizards, are we not?"

Remus was simultaneously terrified and impressed by Tonks' nonchalant attitude toward her injuries. Did she always careen so wildly into danger like her cousin, Sirius? Gently, and making sure she was steady on her feet, Remus released her. "Lumos," he murmured, casting them both in light. Indeed her face looked quite full and healthy, and her black eyes were alert and twinkling.

"So you're alright then?"

"Certifiably healed," she said with a slight smirk. "They don't take delicate little flowers to be aurors, believe me. Taking care of Buckbeak then?" She nodded to the closed door.

"Somebody has to. Now that…"

"Now that Sirius is dead," Tonks finished. Her usually cheery voice sounded odd when solemn. "Mad-Eye told me, right after I woke up. I'm so sorry, Remus."

Remus swallowed.

"We all knew the risks."

"Did we, though?" said Tonks, her voice uncharacteristically heavy.

A long heavy silence hung between them. When Tonks spoke again, their words tumbled together, a seamless song.

"Dad said you barely left my bedside — "

" — Molly Weasley ordered me home, I'm afraid. She said I looked half-dead — "

" — Blimey, you still look half-dead — "

"Now you too?"

"Were you hurt at all?"

"No."

"Good. Have you slept since?"

"Barely," Remus admitted.

"Well, I've done nothing but."

They were drawing closer to each other now.

There ought to be another word for "ghost," one that was not quite so literal, for whatever vestiges of Sirius that remained were urging Remus to launch himself over the walls he'd so carefully constructed, grab Nymphadora by the hand, and race across the meadow beyond with reckless abandon.

And he must have forgotten himself for a moment because when he came back to himself, he was kissing her full on the lips, and she was kissing him back with ferocious urgency.

Whatever reservations he'd maintained the past many months were dissolving as their bodies intertwined, and they stumbled together, wordlessly down the hall, collapsing together into Remus' bed.

As they're bodies rolled together, clothes falling away, Remus, remembering Tonks' recent injuries, came back to his senses long enough to ask, "I'm not going to hurt you, am I?"

"No," breathed Tonks into his ear. "Not ever."


End file.
